


A Dawn by The Sea

by Ladibard_Wordsmith28



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Forehead Kisses, Foreplay, Implied Sexual Content, Making Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:40:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24222943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladibard_Wordsmith28/pseuds/Ladibard_Wordsmith28
Summary: Harry Potter and Hermione Granger are at last free of those toxic relations that tied them to a life they were desperate to run away from. Here on an island far away, surrounded by sea and the open sky, for the first time they discover each other and realize the pleasure of togetherness. (Harmony) (post war)(Au).
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 76





	1. Chapter 1

The regular disclaimer still stays in place, I owe nothing but the AU and OC. The rest belongs to JKR. My mind lives in the Harry Potter fanfiction world though my body is still thankfully anchored in the monotonous reality of existence. My themes, plotline, and storyline may, therefore, get indirectly influenced by many of the brilliant fanfiction writers on this site. And I humbly bow to such creative genius who give me much needed literary pleasures to see through the toils of mundane life. Lastly, I don't have a beta, so please be merciful. Reviews would encourage this introvert writer to peep out of her literary closet. This is my first Harmony.

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**A Dawn by the Sea**

Trailing his fingers over her spine, he smelt her hair once again. Life had forced him to take so many by lanes, that he could never decide what was going to be his ultimate destiny. The world knew his name even before he could learn how to pronounce it. Harry Potter. Before they would erupt in hushed whispers. "There goes the boy who lived". Now, he wished he could keep his eyes closed to all those floodlights and those flashbulbs which were desperate to turn him blind. Now, he carried the tag of "The man who defeated Voldemort.' And within his arms, in this ideal small island situated literally nowhere, was the brain of the golden trio.

When did this happen exactly? Blinking his eyes, he had once again, smelt her. Sweat, strawberries, seawater, red wine, sauce from the diner they had cooked in the kitchenette and chocolate. Her lips brushed right over his bare chest. featherlight brushes. Even in sleep, she never stopped mumbling. Ron would always complain, "Those clogs of her bushy headed brain never stopped clanging. I am telling you mate, she is not even wholeheartedly participating in the kiss, and I am trying hard not to blow myself up with all this heat building up in me." Nay, he would not think of that man!

Nudging her tangled hair off her neck, with his nose, he found a small naked patch of her nude skin. He thought he would just enjoy a small loving peck for now. But Hermione Granger was like a bottle of old Italian wine. The more you sip, the more you would ask for a refill. Allowing his fingers to take the rein of this new tide of passion that rose steadily with the breaking dawn, he bit and sucked, leaving his mark on her. Her fingers woke up first. No, it was her hip that flexed, her legs shifted, like the elephant grasses by a serene water body, tangling the white sheets into a jumble of knots trapping both of them on this thoroughly ruined bed. Sliding over his bare form, she started nudging his sleepy cells, calling them with her sweets brushes. She rubbed her nose again and again over the long sensitive skin that joined his stubbled cheek and his earlobe. Exciting him and waking his already raging passion.

Her fingers scored his flanks, waking his muscles, waking up his ribs and his lungs, strumming on his heartstrings. His chest was on fire. But she was transforming into a nymph made of molten glass. His fingers decided to give her newfound desire a shape. They dug into her skin, kneaded her muscles, scratched over, hungrily felt those gradually breaking goosebumps. Until her parted lips decided to go on an adventure of their own. Hermione Granger was never the one to embark on great adventures. She was a bookworm who loved to sit glued to one place with a very fat book open on her lap. But it was Harry Potter and his steadfast friendship that had made her do all the impossible things in her little life. A life that she now quite habitually lived by balancing herself over a thin wire.

Right now that thin wire had transformed itself into his jawline. She continued dragging her lips over it, giving it a shape, memorizing its rise and dip, till her tongue declared, it was thirsty enough to taste the throb of his pulse. By now in utter desperation, he had aligned their bodies, so that, he could replay the oldest song of love. The subtle undulation of their limbs, the clash of their individual flesh, made the minuscule sound, like lazy foamy waves outside, that kissed the white beach and ran off like a shy lover returning moments later to kiss away the scowl etched over the sand grains.

With her, he had discovered, in the last few hours, what he was capable of. No longer did he need somebody to guide him. Her kisses were not wet. Her ministrations were never dominating him, forcing him to submit. Inside, she shared the task, dividing the unspoken actions between them. When he moved forward, she met him halfway. This rhythm was natural. She was always the first one to say it to him. Make him believe in himself and in his capacities. One of his hands decided to tangled itself in the depth of her dense chestnut hair. And the other steadied her erratically rocking hip over his. He would take it slow. He wanted this morning to drag itself across the vast canvas of the retreating night sky. He knew the stars will vanish and the moon has already drowned itself in the darkness of the ocean. The sun will rise soon. The horizon was busy putting up ribbons and strings of happy colors with the help of those fluffy clouds.

He was about to imagine how would he want today's sun to look like when her lips had interrupted his thoughts. He realized he was already getting reacquainted with her inner spirit, the one that introduced her as a woman to him. His hands had rearranged themselves over her body, holding her close, feeling her curves, her scars, pushing those hidden buttons that fired her passion again and again. His groans thrashed over the shy sheers curtains that greeted the first rays like a trustworthy friend. She had discovered yet another weakness of his and was determined to kill him slowly this time. Her lips had closed over his Adam's apple. In vain, he had tried hard to bob it out of her reach, but Hermione was a fast learner. Tossing his head back, he had made more room for her. It was a battle move, take two steps back and then pounce on your opponent.

Flexing his quidditch trained body, he had succeeded in rolling them over, pinning her like a stretched butterfly on a white soft board. Her fingers were caging his ten digits like an obedient student. Her legs had twined themselves over his lower back, making him discover newer depths. Insistent and urgent, her eyes had begged him again to shred the last cover of a civilian and turn into the beast she had learned to recognize with. They had decided on only one rule, "Never close your eyes on me, never look away." And after renewing this secret affair for the umpteenth time, nose to nose, hip to hip, chest to chest, hands joined they dragged each other till the door to their euphoric climax burst open and the high tide splashed against the jutting rocks. The world was not ready to hear their voices. Their breakups were still new, their emotional scars, deep and raw, still oozing blood. One thing was common among them. They were not the first ones to walk away, to cheat and lie to the significant one. They were the victims instead.

Let the world hear the thrashing waves instead, let the world wake up with the new day, let it drench itself with renewed energy, let it prepare for yet another mundane existence. People who have survived the worst, people like Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, who have nothing to call their own, no family to fall back to, have made a grand discovery. Sealing their mouths, as their bodies released the stagnant water behind the sentient dam, they consumed their passion, their small promises "I will", "won't leave", "I got you", and "Will stay like this", their tears of pain, and their newfound joy.

The sun came and peeped into the room, inquisitively tracing its rays over his dead cold lightning scar. She inched over his sleepy face and kissed that crooked line that snatched away his choice for so long, that he had to sacrifice everything a child ever wanted. When his eyes blinked open, green met chocolate brown. They had painted each other's bodies with fresh blotched shades of red. Their paint brushes left behind teeth marks and fingerprints. But this shade of green and this particular shade of chocolate brown can never be recreated. Because, at this moment by this virgin sea beach, in this little magical cottage, where perhaps James Potter had made love to his new wife, Lily Evans Potter a lifetime ago, his son was painting a new canvas with the color of his eyes and the color of Hermione Granger's joyful eyes. The magical love story of the man and nature was once getting retold for a new dawn to hear...


	2. chapter 2

Disclaimer: The same as the previous chapters.

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**Chapter 2**

Hugging her tight, fighting his tears, he had confessed," I can't pretend anymore, Hermione. I can't, Now it hurts. It hurts more than having Voldemort speaking in my head. My heart, it is my heart…" still shuddering she had cried along with him, "Oh, Harry!"

He had pushed her away a bit, just to make sure she was really there, alive. He didn't care if they both were standing hip-deep water of a freezing lake. All that mattered to him was, she was alive. Brushing away her wet strands, he implored," What do you think, you were doing in there? Could you not just think? Hermione just because Ron dumps you and Ginny gets all crazy, you decide to run away and what?" Giving her a good shake he hugged her back.

As for the girl currently nestling in his arms, the once formidable Hermione Granger was now reduced to a thoroughly soaked kitten. Not giving her time to explain her, he had picked her up and had purposefully walked back to the tent. They were in the Forest of Dean and Hermione had come along with just one item on her person two days ago, leaving just a note at her Ministry desk," This world is better without me."

And that note had hit him the hardest. Ever since he had been hunting for her like a madman. He knew what was it like to be an outsider. They were in so many ways similar. And if Hermione was pushed to calling it quits, it was her way of screaming out at him for help. She had mumbled the password that made the tent visible allowing both of them to pass through. As soon as he was inside the tent, he made a beeline for the small fireplace.

Looking back at her, he just waited for a sign. But when she neither opposed nor agreed to him taking the lead, he decided to take matters in hand. Pulling off her sweater, shirt, he threw over the blanket on the cot next to them around her. Next, as his fingers halted inches about the belt buckle of her wet jeans, Hermione had curtly nodded back. Helping her wriggle out of them in no time. He had picked her up and placed her gently over the cot.

She found it endearing as he should next to her undecided, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. Pulling the blanket up to her cheek, she had just whispered," I am cold." Frantically pulling over his shirt and sweater together over his head, hopping a bit to free himself of his soggy boots and trousers, Harry had joined her below the blankets in no time. Spooning against her, he placed his head right behind her ear, crossing his arms over her chest and bringing his legs over her.

Both of them were cold, but it did cut over a warm image. Both of them took turns to rub each others' skin, trying to warm up the freezing layers. He had helped her turn and face him. Leaving no room for asking permission, he had pressed his palms over her back and started rubbing her skin. Up and down they when, mimicking the hands of a father trying to put a baby to sleep. Up and down they went, trying to arouse her senses, trying to breathe in a new lease of life right into her broken heart and battered soul.

She was the first person to break the silence, hanging heavily over the two of them. "Why?" Smiling back at her, he nudged at her nose playfully," What, why?" Shifting closer, till she was flush against his bare skin, she asked again, this time sounding a bit more confident," Why are you here?" Gathering her in his arms, sighing deeply into her wet hair, for once he was rather thankful, he was doing this slowly. Magic at times ruined the pleasure of enjoying the journey. He murmured at last," Where else would I be?"

Sniffing and rubbing her head at his collar bone, she dared to mention," What about Gin..?" Bringing his hand up, placing it firmly over her trembling lips, he pleaded, " Hermione can we agree on something right now?" When she said nothing, he spoke firmly," We will not speak of those who could not make a room for themselves in our hearts. I am not holding it against anyone, I can't, but we got essentially choose whom we will fall for do we?"

Her words had touched his finger first before tumbling down in cascades of tiny whispers," So you are saying…since when?"

Allowing his lips to curl, he confessed," Can't say when or how. But this much I can say, I never liked watching you cry. I liked how to took the shit Malfoy spewed and flung it back on him. I liked how you stood your ground. I liked you for a long time, Hermione. But I think, when I saw you under the great lake during the Tri-Wizard Tournament, I just couldn't carry on convincing myself I cared for you like a brother. I am sorry, I acted like a moron. But then what else could I do? My life was never without thousand complications hissing back at me, was it?"

"Oh, Harry!" she had snaked her hands around him and pulled him further close, leaving no room for space between themselves. The blanket aided in trapping the warmth radiating from the two being cocooned below it. He wanted to give this moment a name. She thought, she should at least acknowledge his previous confessions. When it came to Harry, this man within her arms would fight his way through everything for the ones he cared and loved. It was an honour to be loved, to be the person he loved more than anything in his universe. Testing new waters, she had placed a soft kiss right at the base of his neck. He had jerked, daring not to read too much into her sweet gesture, he had stared, trying to ask "the question". She knew he was not to good at expressing himself. The fact that he had confessed so much meant he was quite drained out for the day. Offering his a slight nod and putting up a sly smile, Hermione Granger did just the thing that would shift the gear in this new relationship they both were pondering to embark on.

"Will it be too much, if I asked you to kiss me?"

Leaning forward till his lips were just half an inch away from her parted one, he spoke huskily, staring at her from under his hooded eyes," All you needed to do was ask, Miss Granger." Then he had latched upon those soft petals that kept him awake for nights together, relishing their taste, drowning his existence in them, dropping all his guise, his reasons to attach himself to the world around. Within her arms, tangled in her limbs, assured that she was still here, right next to him, Harry James Potter realized for this unique moment in life, he was content.


End file.
